Afraid to Talk

A (hopefully) innocuous picture of my setup at Brunswick for lacrosse.

I talk.

Sometimes for a living.

I'm responsible for my words, and occasionally I say things that get me in trouble for one reason or another. I get that it's the very nature of the beast, of course.

Yet sometimes we say things that aren't even remotely intended to be inflammatory, and yet...

Yet...

Take what happened to Brian Davis, play-by-play announcer for the Oklahoma City Thunder on Fox Sports Oklahoma. Davis, in his eighth year with the Thunder, used the phrase "cotton-picking mind" in relation to guard Russell Westbrook.

For that, he earned a one-game suspension and had to apologize.

No. That's not a joke. Here's the recap from Yahoo! Sports.

Given that we speak on the air extemporaneously for hours at a time, I would hope there would be a certain amount of understanding. However common sense must also be considered, and I'd like to believe most of us know there are a variety of words and phrases that shouldn't (and can't) be used.

I don't think I use "cotton-picking" in regard to anything, and I suppose I understand its "offensiveness" to a degree. I won't simply play the "That's Not/Is Racist!" card.

But a suspension? I'm not so sure about that. I think it would have been fair if Fox Sports Oklahoma said, "Look, Brian, we know you meant nothing by it, but it's an 'old school' term that can be construed as racist. Do us a solid and don't use it again, OK?"

There. All done.

Instead, this guy now has a stigma attached to him. It brought him attention that no broadcaster wants. Unfairly.

It can make many of us weary to talk or write.

To that very point, I was calling the New Canaan/Brunswick lacrosse game Saturday night. Now I recognize that the rights of Brunswick games are governed by Brunswick, since I'm there for them. So I do choose my words carefully to begin with, but I don't stand there and censor myself.

I use common sense.

Still, I brought up the topic of the Brian Davis suspension and didn't completely elaborate, except to say that viewers and listeners could find the story online.

Yes. I was nervous about saying the offending phrase.

Continuing with that, I felt a certain level of trepidation in bringing up Jackie Robinson, as it occurred to me that we were up against the 71st anniversary of his joining the Brooklyn Dodgers. Players all around baseball will wear the number 42 in honor of Robinson.

While it's a lovely and deserving gesture, I have never been in favor of it. Not because I'm "anti-Robinson." What Jackie did can't be measured. It's legendary, and the story needs to be told. Yet I feel that when the message is pushed with the "all-42 movement," things get lost.

So I feel I have a better idea. Each team should have one member -- anyone -- who exhibits the spirit of Jackie Robinson. That person should have the honor of wearing 42 that year on April 15. Then the team can hold a ceremony before the game to introduce the player and present the message of equality that Mr. Robinson wanted.

As it is, there is still a long way to go, and we all know that.

Yet why do I have to feel nervous about saying that? Why do we worry that everything we say could get us fired or suspended?

Don't actions speak louder than words anyway? Well which is it?

Heck, I'm even concerned about pressing "Publish" on this post, and that's become more frequent in the past four years or so.

It shouldn't be like that. Common sense should prevail and I'd like to think we can look at what's in a persons heart.

Brian Davis shouldn't have been suspended.

Common sense isn't all that common.

Truly a Joy

It didn't end that way.

I called a baseball game today, and it was magnificent.

I don't mean my call. My broadcast was full of stuttering and mistakes and other signs that I was hungry (and probably tired).

But I loved watching two pitchers: Gavin Noriega of Salesian High School (from New Rochelle, NY) and JD Sparks of Brunswick School (of Greenwich, CT). They spun five innings of pure magic. Zeroes rang out on the scoreboard and in my scorebook.

Noriega was twirling, as he had a perfect game through four-and-a-third innings, and a no-hitter after five. Sparks was equally good, scattering five hits over seven innings. Sparks became "Houdini" as he climbed out of several jams.

Noriega was gone after five, replaced by a young man named Steven Pisacano (and I misread his name on the hand-written roster as "Pisacaro." Sigh). Pisacano was also quite good, allowing two hits over 1.2 innings.

No score after six-and-a-half.

It was a game that took one hour and 47 minutes, and it ended with one out in the bottom of the seventh.

This is the full broadcast.
 Or if you just want to hear the bottom of the seventh, then listen to this:
Or...just cut to the chase. This is the call of Jake Hyde's "walkoff" single.
Brunswick 1, Salesian 0.

It was fun. Warm. Sunny. As always, it was a challenge to scribble lineups and talk to coaches before the first pitch. But it's a dance that I so love when everything is right.

I take calling these games seriously (yep. NEWSFLASH!), and I have brutal crisis of confidence. But so is the very nature of it.

It was near 70 degrees for the game and I was wearing shorts. It's heading down to 41 and cold for the second broadcast of my day: Brunswick and New Canaan in lacrosse.

Sigh.

** On some level, a few of you who read this blog might care what I have to say about the Huey Lewis news (that's NOT a joke) from yesterday. To be honest, I'm still debating a blog post on it, but suffice to say, I'm quite sad about it. I'll leave it at that.

I digress. So I'll call the lax game and leave that for another time.

Calling the game from right field. Making the best of it.

So About Last Night

Wow, Christian, that's some uniform-grabbing! (CHARLES KRUPA/AP)

Yes, the baseball world was spun back on its axis last night.

There's a writer for NBC Sports named Bill Baer. Ol' Bill is a stats-loving sabermetric-type o'chap who thinks modern baseball should be all about touchdown dances and fun! Those who play hard are not fun! Heck, just look at this piece of prose, about how some Cubs are telling Javier Baez to tone his game down just a smidge.

Over in Boston, the Yankees and Red Sox reignited THE RIVALRY(c), as Brock Holt was upset by a hard Tyler Austin slide.

In Twitter-land and other parts of the interwebs, both sides are accusing the other of bias. Because, they're...you know...fans.

Yawn.

Here's the deal: I call BS when I see it. Know that I love the sport and am not enamored with the modern version of it. I couldn't care less whether Jackie Robinson smiled, but I knew he was one hard-nosed SOB on the field.

I would have loved him on the Yankees. That's how this goes.

Put a man on second base to start extra innings? Thanks, Rob Manfred (because we all know he wants it at the big league level).

If I had a problem with Austin's slide, I'd tell you. Given my propensity for old time baseball (Eddie Shore? Oh...wait...wrong movie), you will understand that I have minimal problem with Austin. My only beef -- slightly rare, if you will -- is that Austin could have gotten up, patted Holt on the back (not too hard now) and said, "Hey. You OK? Incidentally, where do you go to get your hair that blonde?" and trotted back to the dugout.

Let's not take note of -- thanks to the modern rules (aka "The Chase Utley Rule") -- middle infielders act like Tom Brady when a feather breezes by them.

"WAIT! That's a 15-yard penalty! Where's the flag!"

But from the top of Mount Washington through the "summer houses" of Newport, out through the Cape and sort of towards the Berkshires (which is more Yankees-land than New Englanders ever wish to admit), there was a howl of "You'll get yours, Austin!"

And he did, in the form of a Joe Kelly fastball on his second try. Shawn Estes, come on down!


Austin took offense -- his business, I guess. The benches emptied. We had a donnybrook!

(Part of me would love for Austin to do the old Don Baylor routine. That is, to treat the hit by pitch as if a mosquito just bit him, drop the bat, and run to first.)

In the Mahopac home office, I glanced, and continued about my business. Call me crazy, but I'm a bottom-line guy. This is all that matters to me...

Funny, 35-to-1 or whatever the Red Sox won by on Monday night suddenly was irrelevant. All of the handwringing about Giancarlo Stanton and his one-million strikeouts ended. Aaron Boone's awful bullpen decisions? Moot points.

Yankees 10. Red Sox 7. That's all that matters for now.

Here's the bigger takeaway: these teams play way too much now. There is too much divisional play, so some luster has disappeared. Plus with modern-day baseball, there's a lot of fraternizing. When it came to Yankees/Red Sox, whether it was 1904 and "Nuf Ced" McGreevy or 1949 or 1974-78 or 1999-2005 (give or take) there was genuine hatred, especially with everything pre-1994 (ish).

Sweet Lou and Pudge, 1976 (Ned Martin and Hawk Harrelson on TV-38).


Oh, Pedro.

So last night gave this "Greatest Rivalry" (which stands up with Ohio State/Michigan, Giants/Dodgers, Bruins/Canadiens, etc) a nifty little boost.

And it's not over.

Incidentally, before you go on and dump your chowder on each side, my understanding is that Jerry Remy was fair on NESN, and I know for a fact David Cone was excellent on YES. Each one saw the others side quite well.

I see the same here. I get why Holt is mad, and Austin should have patted him on the back. It all likely ends there.

Kelly wants to protect his teammate? Fine. Do it once. But he doubled-down, and then it was time to play the feud, with catcher Christian Varquez, who was rightly called out by John Flaherty on YES for not protecting Kelly fast enough, going to the Jason Varitek School of Tough Guy Mask-Wearing.

Varitek ("The Captain" -- as noted by the "C" on his jersey) and Mr. Rodriguez, 2004.

So it goes. The Republic did not burn down. Fans from each side will continue to spout utterly dumb things.

All this over a slide. But we need more hot-dogging?

They'll play another 17 times. Including tonight.